


I Love In Your Direction

by verlore_poplap (orphan_account)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-07
Updated: 2017-09-07
Packaged: 2018-12-24 23:29:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12023331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/verlore_poplap
Summary: Will Derek, high school senior and captain of the football team ever ask out Stiles, the nerdy sophomore he can't seem to get out of his head?





	I Love In Your Direction

The moment it happened as Derek did it-- ruined everything, he probably knew it was a mistake but it wasn't until two days later...  
On a Monday afternoon at four o'clock, when Derek walked into the boys bathroom, the one next to the dark room - where Stiles Stilinski spent most of his time during his lunch hour and a couple of hours after school, three or four days out of the week, inside - that Derek realised just how monumentally he had fucked up.

He'd looked in the dark room and found it empty before he noticed a huge ass backpack still sitting against the wall. He could have waited outside like a normal person but he wasn't a normal person and these weren't normal circumstances so he opened the bathroom door, ready to ask if Stiles was in there when Derek saw him.

Stiles was standing in front of the sink, his eyes downcast and not really looking in the mirror. He was red nosed with puffy eyes and still kind of sniffing a bit even though he'd obviously stopped crying a few minutes before.  
Derek paused mid step-- before backing up one or two, his back hitting againt the door. At the bang of Derek's body colliding with the wood, Stiles looked up-- their eyes meeting in the mirror.  
For some reason Stiles didn't look surprised to see him-- maybe he expected Derek to seek him out. He didn't even seem angry or particularly sad really. Stiles didn't really look...anything which kind of belied the crying and the tears.  
Derek had blurted out, "Sorry...shit. I'm sorry," and he didn't know what he was apologizing for. If it was for barging in on Stiles like this...or breaking up with him out of nowhere on Saturday.  
Stiles said, "It's fine," and the way he said it made it sound like it was fine before he walked past Derek, body language pushing Derek away from the door before Stiles stepped through it and into the dark room where Derek knew better than to follow.

It took five minutes for Derek to move from the spot next to the closed bathroom door. He considered knocking - he was allowed to knock and then wait for Stiles to come out, that was the rule - but the thing is...he had no idea what he would even say to Stiles.  
The plan (because it was always better to have a plan when it came to Stiles) was to check in on him and make sure he was okay-- that's what people did, right? When they cared about someone?

Laura told him to leave it alone, to leave Stiles alone and so did Micheal and Isaac. They said, "You've done enough," and "Let it go, Derek" and they didn't say it like they were mad at Derek.  
Just like it was a fact. Derek had done enough and...Stiles wasn't okay.  
Derek had seen to that.

Fuck.  
He really screwed up, didn't he?

\---

Stiles Stilinski was a nerd.  
Not a geek, like-- he wasn't into comic books, didn't cream himself over anything and everything Joss Whedon or JJ Abrahams related-- Stiles hadn't even seen Star Wars before Derek bribed him with sexual favors to spend the weekend watching all seven movies...  
Stiles was a nerd.

He was super super smart although most people just assumed he was based on the thick, black rimmed glasses he wore. Stiles had braces - he arrived with them at the start of his freshman year and Derek thought oh okay before deciding adamantly that he didn't give a fuck.  
Stiles dressed like he was colorblind, like his grandmother chose his clothes and he put them on in the dark every morning. He carried this huge backpack everywhere (probably because he avoided his locker like the plague) and it was stacked full of books-- not just his school books but like...novels and dictionaries and shit (most of them not even on the prescribed reading list) and Derek would see Stiles with his nose in one of them, during the seldom times he was at lunch - sitting with that girl Erica only speaking to her sometimes and ignoring everyone else.  
Definitely ignoring everyone at the lunch table where Derek sat with his own friends.

Stiles hates Derek's friends.  
Every single one of them and Derek too. He can't really blame Stiles for that because Stiles' a nerd and Derek and his friends are...  
The thing with that is-- high School social hierarchy is complete bullshit.  
Derek's always believed that. He doesn't think being on the football and/or baseball team made him special. Or like, maybe it did because he works really hard at his sports and in the weight room but it didn't make you specialer (more special?) than, for example, the school's star mathlete or the president of the photography club.  
Derek's friends used to think like that... problematic crap, like they were better than other people because of their letterman jackets (and hadn't they seen any high school coming of age movies in the last 25 years?)  
So they thought they were better than Stiles Stilinski: nerd, mathlete, president of the photography club and because of that (not that Derek's making excuses for them or anything) they used to push Stiles around and stuff, steal his homework, put stuff in his locker to make it smell like Lucifer himself took a shit in there. Basically, they bullied the crap out of the kid.

That's the first time Derek really noticed Stiles, when he found out about this shit.  
He'd seen Stiles around school and knew who Stiles was because they'd overlapped in middle school so yeah-- when Stiles joined Hester Hills High School as a freshman, Derek did kinda recognize him. It was hard not to.  
At fist he had no idea what his friends were up to-- Micheal, Boyd and Isaac, they weren't bad guys, he didn't think. Derek had known them for two years, became their friend when the four of them were freshman trying out for the baseball team together. He had no clue about what they were doing to Stiles but when he found out, fuck. Derek doesn't think he will ever forget that day.

It was a few months into the school year, football practice had let out fifteen minutes earlier and Derek was already out of the showers, eager to get into his car and drive home - he had so much fucking homework to do - when he spotted them; Micheal, Boyd and Isaac and a smaller, slightly familiar figure...pressed up against a car with the other two guys blocking him in. Boyd had the kid's backpacks in his hand, holding it away from him and out of his reach. The thing must have weight a fuck ton but Boyd easily benched over 200 lbs so it was nothing. The kid looked like he'd weigh 150 lbs soaking wet. Derek's head felt a little foggy as he took in the scene, a sense of surrealism washing over him for a second or two before his vision swam with red. So he made his way over there.

"What the fuck are you doing?!"  
The three guys turned to look at Derek but Derek's eyes were on Stiles Stilinski. The smaller boy had his eyes on the ground, his heavy glasses perched low on the bridge of his nose like it was gonna fall off any second and Derek barely caught sight of his eyes-- light brown if he recalled correctly. The kid was trembling and Derek realised with a bit of a start that he was too. But not out of fear like the freshman.  
"Derek!" Micheal said. "Nothing, man." He stepped back from Stiles, releasing the grip he had on Stiles' mustard yellow polo. "We were just..."

Derek was going to do something he'd probaby-- maybe regret so - two years of friendship, he reminded himself - he just clenched his fists at his sides, kept them there and asked, "Stiles...you okay?"  
The boy lifted his head, surprise evident on his face before he masked it, a blank look replacing it.  
"Fine," he said, sounding like he meant it.  
Fuck, he sounded kinda pissed and maybe not just at the three guys who were still standing too close to Stiles for Derek's liking.  
"You done here guys?"  
"Yeah," Boyd said. "Nerd isn't worth it anyway."

A muscle in Stiles' jaw ticked at the comment but that was the only outward indication he gave that the it bothered him. He was still looking at Derek, whisky colored eyes blazing while the rest of his expression remained expressionless, just empty as fuck. Derek has never seen anything like it before.  
"Let's go then," Derek said and the other two shrugged before they finally backed up from Stiles. They walked past Derek, heard him ask Stiles, "You need a ride home?" Isaac made a scoffing sound like he couldn't believe this shit Derek ignored him.  
Stiles got a deviant look on his face and said, "Sure."  
"Derek, what the fuck are you doing?" Micheal asked.  
Derek turned to his friend. "Giving Stiles a ride home, what does it look like? I'll see you guys tomorrow," and with that he turned back to Stiles, giving the kid a nod of his head and walking to his car, deciding to ignore Boyd's bewildered question of, "What the fuck is Derek doing?"  
They got into Derek's Toyota and when both doors were slammed shut, Derek asked, "Do they do that a lot?"  
Stiles played with his fingers in his lap, they were long and distracting so Derek gave himself a mental shake down and turned his eyes to the front, starting the ignition.  
"Yeah," came Stiles' soft reply.  
"It won't happen again," Derek said.

Stiles didn't respond, just looked out of his window.  
They didn't speak to each other after that, besides Derek asking Stiles where he lived and Stiles giving the address and that was that. Nothing else was said between them for the rest of the trip to Stiles' house. As far as Derek was concerned there wasn't anything more to say really. This...sitting in his car with Stiles' scent filling the closed off space around them, it was...a small moment in Derek's life. Nothing more than a blip on the radar of his existence.

They didn't talk again for the rest of the school year but Derek tried-- he did his best to make sure no one went too far with Stiles after that. It wasn't just Micheal, Boyd and Isaac but most of the guys who fucked with Stiles were on the football team. Derek told them to cut it out or at least...  
"Do not fucking hit him again, Jackson. I will beat the shit out of you."  
Jackson didn't listen so Derek followed through.

Stiles didn't get beat up anymore after that but Derek knew his friends tormented him from time to time.  
But what was Derek supposed to do about that? He wasn't Stiles' keeper, wasn't his protector or some shit, couldn't prevent every shove from happening and Stiles wasn't his boyfriend like some of the guys on the team accused.  
Derek didn't know why his heart beat so fucking fast whenever the guys joked like that-- he just knew he didn't like it.

So he only spoke up, stopped things when it looked like it was gonna get physical, like they were actually going to hurt Stiles. More than that he just couldn't do.  
Or at least, that's what he told himself so he could fucking sleep at night.

\---

Derek doesn't really sleep since he broke things off with Stiles. His parents don't notice but they hardly notice anything and Laura's too far away at college to be worrying about Derek's sleeping habits.  
He doesn't even care about it that much to be honest. Maybe he would have been concerned about it taking a toll on his school work but-- that didn't matter now.  
Graduation is supposed to take place a month from now but not for Derek-- not really.

In a little more than week he'll be gone, away from Beacon Hills at his dream school and maybe--  
Maybe he'll be able to sleep...  
When there's over five hundred miles him and his biggest mistake.

\---

The first week of Derek's senior year, he heard something interesting.  
There was a rumor going around school that sophomore Stiles Stilinski had dated a kid from another school over the summer and that wouldn't be a big issue besides fact that Stiles was a huge nerd and who would even date him, blah blah blah except the kid was apparently a guy.  
Boyd had a field day with it of course, most of the guys did. The team was gathered in the locker room for the first practice of the year when Boyd went, "So it's official. Stilinski isn't just a fag but like a real one too."  
Derek finished pulling on his jersey, making sure not to look at Boyd, trying his futile best to not appear at all interested in what was being said.

"Are you for real, bro?" Tyler, one of the junior guys on the team asked.  
"I heard he was sucking some middle schooler's dick all summer," Jackson said before laughing like it was the funniest shit he'd ever heard.  
"I'm pretty sure it was Danny Māhealani," Micheal added. "My neighbor, he's like sixteen so-- I saw Stilinski come over a couple of times." All of a sudden, Micheal's eyes lit up. "Hey, Derek. Maybe you can get him to blow you sometime as you know, a thank you."  
Derek tried to keep his breathing steady which was challenging to say the least-- this conversation was making red bleed into the edges of his vision.  
For more than one reason.  
But one particular aspect of his feelings he decided he wasn't going to focus on. Like at all. Ever.

"Thank you for what asshole?"  
"You know...saving his scrawny ass all the time."  
"I wouldn't have to do that if you'd just lay off the kid."  
A few snickers went around the locker room before Isaac said, "Well at least you know you're in with a shot now?"  
There was an edge to his voice, something more than mocking. Like it was an honest suggestion and the thought of that made Derek feel slightly ill.  
"So this is who you are then?" He asked, in an effort to deflect. "A bunch of gossiping bitches? Homophobes to top it off?"  
"Hey, man. I'm not a homophobe," Boyd said. "My little sister's gay."  
"You called Stilinski a fag," Micheal pointed out and for the first time ever, Boyd looked sorta chastised.  
"I didn't mean it like-- "  
"However you meant it, fucking stop."  
Derek put as much authority as he could into the words, hoping the fact that he was team captain this year would go a ways in making them listen to him. From the way the whole team nodded their heads...he might have gotten his wish.

The rumors of Stiles' sexual orientation continued to spread around school during the week but on more than one occasion Derek heard one of his friends tell a passer by that they overheard to shut the fuck up, it's none of your business  
Derek wasn't gonna lie, he was proud of them, proud of himself for the first time in a long time and that manifested in a sense of warmth in his chest when he thought of Stiles where usually there was just a cold feeling of dread and like...longing and shit.  
He started thinking that...  
He started thinking dangerous things.  
Because the fact that the team stood up for a nerdy sophomore who came out of the closet (Stiles confirmed the rumors with nothing more than a blank look and a yeah, so what?) didn't mean that--

After high school-- Derek promised himself when the realisation struck him in the middle of his junior year.  
This from a combination of a failed attempt at losing his virginity to Braeden Marshal at a post game party at her house along with the persistent flashes of Stiles Stilinski's eyes whenever he tried to jerk it. He used to think it was just Stiles, that the nerdy freshman had gotten under skin that day that Derek gave him a ride home and somehow stayed there for the next year or so, maybe Derek was just confused from saving the kid's ass from beatings and being thrown with gay innuendo from his friends for it but then he bolted on Braden because no-- no way. Vaginas were scary...truly frightening and Derek wanted absolutely nothing to do with them.

"I think I'm gay," he told Laura, when she'd come home for Christmas break last year. "Don't tell mom and dad."  
"Yeah," she said immediately, before hugging him.  
When she pulled away, she asked, "Are you okay?"  
"I think so," Derek told her. "I mean, it's fine. It's not anything to be ashamed of..."  
"But?" Laura prompted.  
"I just need some time," he said. "To get used to the idea. I'll probably tell them in a few months."  
"And at school?" Laura asked. "Are you planning to come out?"  
"I don't know," Derek said but he already knew-- he wouldn't. Senior year was his chance to be captain of the football team and he had a definite shot at baseball co-captain. He didn't need to risk it-- had no reason to since he only guy he was interested in was a nerdy freshman he couldn't get out of his head.

At the time he'd thought Stiles wasn't even gay, added to the fact that he absolutely hated Derek's guts, there was no reason to publicly declare his preference for penis.  
And Stiles really did hate him-- everyone knew that. It was an endless source of amusement for Micheal, Boyd and Isaac.  
"If he knew that you were the only reason he wasn't getting pummeled on the daily..."  
"Yeah, well," he told Boyd. "Maybe you should try being a decent person for once-- maybe that would be the reason."  
Boyd just laughed like he thought it was a joke but whatever, it didn't matter. His friends didn't want to make Derek mad so they didn't beat up Stiles and only because Derek was their friend-- so Derek had to keep it that way.

\---

Boyd is the only one that tells him to try and make things right with Stiles.  
"I can't," Derek tells him. "I broke up with him-- I can't go back on it now."  
"Because of pride?" He asks.  
And maybe that's part of it but it's not just that so Derek says, "Its too complicated."  
"It's difficult," Boyd says. "You screwed up but it isn't complicated."  
He reminds Derek that prom's happening tomorrow and Derek asks him what he's supposed to do with that information.  
"That's for you to decide," he says.

\---

Derek applied to be a TA for Chemistry after passing junior year with the highest marks in the AP class for the subject and just like that-- his schedule for senior year made sure that his free period and study hall coincided with the sophomore and junior classes.  
It would look really good on his college applications along with his GPA and a letter of recommendation from Miss Humprey the chem teacher. And Derek needed his application to look good if he wanted to get into Berkeley and into the summer programme maybe, just maybe, he could score some financial aid as well ( because his parents weren't poor or anything but when Derek enrolled next year they'd have two kids in college and yeah...shit's expensive.)

His heart kind of did a weird summersault thing when he walked into the first sophomore Chemistry class of the year and saw Stiles Stilinski sitting in the third row and to the far right.  
It shouldn't have been a surprise to see him there but it sorta was and Derek wasn't at all prepared for it.  
Stiles' blank stare met his and so Derek looked away, coughing for some reason, and took his seat at the small desk in the left corner at the front of the class.  
At that point he hadn't heard the news yet (his crush was apparently into guys) so he just tried to keep his shit together, not stare at Stiles' distracting eyes and his hands and those lips that looked so good even though Derek knew they covered ridiculous looking braces. Derek didn't care about the braces, not even a little. He was so far gone.

It became worse after he found out (his crush was apparently into guys) and sometimes Derek caught himself looking at Stiles, the way he sat at his desk, legs sprawled out like an invitation for Derek to crawl underneath and in between and...fuck. He got a lot of inappropriate boners during the sophomore chem class.

He didn't get it, honestly. He didn't understand how the rest of the school could miss it, just not see how incredible Stiles Stilinski was, how beautiful, with those eyes and the defiant glint inside them. Stiles didn't care what people thought about him, like he honestly didn't give a single fuck.  
And fuck if he wasn't just fucking adorable-- those awful fucking glasses and the way his hair fell over his eyes, the oversized jeans he wore and his overstuffed backpack that made it look like he was going to topple over any minute now.  
Half the time Derek didn't know if he wanted to wrap the kid up in a hug or bend him over the nearest surface for a hard fuck. It was all very very confusing.  
And the other kids saw none of that.

They treated Stiles like some sort of leper, no one in the class talked to him and they were an uneven number of kids in the class so - unless someone was sick - when they did partner work, Stiles was usually on his own.  
Which meant - you guesses it - Derek needed to partner with him.  
The first time it happened was about three weeks into the school year. It was a simple experiment, thermal conductivity of various metals-- Stiles didn't really need any help, why would he? Kid's a genius.

"Hey, so..."  
Stiles lifted an eyebrow as if saying yes peasant, you wish to speak?  
"How come you're not in advance placement for this class?"  
Stiles looked a little surprised by the question, blinked long eyelashes a few times like he was making sense of it before he said, "My dad didn't want me to. She said I was taking on too much. Everything else is AP. Well, except for gym class."  
Derek let out a small snort of laughter at that. Stiles' eyes narrowed, "Yeah, okay. Laugh it up. I'm inept at anything physical..." Stiles rolled his eyes.  
Derek's heart sank. "I didn't mean-- I thought you were..."  
"Thought I was what?" Stiles asked, picking up the pliers to cut off a piece of copper wire.  
"Making a joke," Derek said.  
"Why would I joke around with you?"

Derek kind of died on the inside but his face was totally chill. No one would be able to tell, from the smirk he was still wearing, that the little shit had just punched a hole through Derek's chest and squeezed his heart in his long fingered grip.  
"Fair point, Stilinski. You need another styrofoam cup?"  
Stiles didn't even look at him.  
"I'm good."

\---

It's the day of prom, the last day Derek will be assisting Miss Humprey, the last Friday of his high school career (at least the part that he'll be present for) and it's partnered work today so as usual, Stiles' on his own.  
Fuck me, Derek thinks and he sends Stiles a panicked look-- Stiles does the same to Miss Humprey who clears her throat and says, "You can work on your own today, Stiles."  
Derek asks to be excused early with the excuse of getting ready for prom and basically runs out of the classroom.  
What? He's always had a flair for the dramatics when it came to Stiles.

\---

After two and a half months of being Stiles' "lab partner" Derek decided to just say fuck it--  
It was wholly uncharacteristic of him-- Derek wasn't impulsive, he wasn't a free spirit. He had the second highest GPA in his year, captained a sports team and became student body president a month ago. He was responsible, he was driven and hardworking. He didn't go around saying fuck it before doing exactly what he wanted.

But for this...  
He was going out of his mind because of this.  
So after baseball practice he showered and changed and left the locker room and instead of heading for the parking lot, he headed back inside the school, walking down the familiar hallways, empty of students and teachers this late in the afternoon, until he came to a stop in front of the school's dark room.  
He took a steadying breath, told himself it was worth the risk, didn't quite believe it, but knocked on the door anyway.  
Exactly nine seconds later, Stiles Stilinski' head popped out.

"Can I help you?"  
Derek gave a nod of his head, clasping his hands together in front of him so Stiles wouldn't see that they were shaking.  
"Can I talk to you for a second?"  
Stiles' gaze left Derek's, turned to his left and then right, like he was looking for something...or someone. He turned back to Derek.  
"Is this like..." He licked his bottom lip - it was hella distracting - "...a set up? Are your goons going to jump out and lock me inside a locker over the weekend or something? Because I'm pretty sure that's illegal."  
Derek gaped at him for a full minute before he could say a word. When he did, it was a deeply affronted denial. "No! No, of course-- my goons? What the fuck, Stiles?"  
"Oh," he said. "Are you just going to shred my books or something? Empty my bag into the garbage bin outside?"  
Derek was getting tired of this. "When have I ever done anything to hurt you?"  
Stiles just gave a shrug like he hadn't really thought about that question. And now that he did-- the answer didn't really mean that much to him anyway.  
"I wouldn't-- I'd never hurt you.".  
"Your friends do," Stiles replied casually.  
"They don't...they're just messing around. They don't beat you up..." Wait. "Do they?"  
Stiles gave him an interested look...before he shrugged. "I guess not. They just find other more creative ways to make my life a living hell."  
"Oh," Derek said. Because yeah... He knows that. He's completely aware of that.  
"So if you're not here to dish out the football team's particular brand of assholery...what are you doing here?"  
"I um..." wanted to ask you out. 

Which is stupid, so fucking stupid, what was Derek even thinking? Stiles hates him - with good fucking reason - and he would never, not ever, date someone like Derek. The thought made his chest ache and for a second Derek was really afraid he might start crying right here and now.  
"Hey...dude, are you okay?"  
"Yeah," Derek said. His throat sounded scratchy and he swallowed down the lump in his throat. "I'm fine, just...I'm gonna go."  
He turned to walk away, taking a few steps before he heard Stiles step out of the dark room, closing its door behind him.  
He said, "Derek...wait," and Derek said something really stupid.  
"You know my name?"  
Stiles looked at him like he wasn't sure which language Derek was speaking but was pretty convinced it wasn't English.  
"Of course I know your name."  
Of course he knows your name, Derek, you fucking idiot.  
"Why don't you just..." Stiles gave a sigh, like this conversation was taking so much out of him. "Tell me what you want to talk to me about."  
"Okay," Derek said, knowing he was about to give Stiles enough ammunition to either laugh in his face or completely ruin his reputation at school. Not that anyone would believe him. Probably. Derek wasn't sure. He also (for the most part) didn't care. 

"Do you want to go out some time? Like this weekend or...maybe the next one if you're busy. We could go see a movie...if you want."  
Stiles blinked at him. And then a few more times for good measure. "You're asking me out?"  
"Yes," Derek stated. Calmly and firmly-- and not at all like he was going to pass out any second.  
"Like a date?" Stiles had that look again. Like he was trying to interpret some mythical tongue that Derek was speaking.  
"Yes," Derek confirmed. Again.  
"Why?" Stiles blurted out, as if the idea of Derek asking him out on a date was the most popostorous thing he'd ever encountered in his sixteen year old life.  
And it wasn't that out there, Derek felt. It was really really simple.  
"I like you," he said.

Yup.  
Cue the laughter, which-- yeah, Derek had expected it but actually seeing it...  
Stiles' head reared back as he shook, his eyes watering from his mirth, until he had to bend over and rest his hands on his knees...  
Derek expected it but like a lot of things when it comes to Stiles-- he wasn't prepared for it...at all. He stood frozen on the spot, unable to move for some reason as he watched his worst nightmare come to life. Then Stiles lifted his head, stood up straight, looking at Derek. The next moment, the laughter on his face just vanished.

"You're...oh god, dude. You're crying."  
Derek hasn't actually realised that, thank you for pointing it out, Stiles, and it was really all Derek needed-- to realize he had to get the fuck away.  
His body seemed to move, finally. He put one foot in front of the other, almost running down the hallway, just needing so much to get away away away  
He ignored the calls of his name, asking him to stop.  
He'd embarrassed himself and tomorrow the whole school would know. Not just that Derek was into guys but that he was into Stiles, who couldn't just turn him down like a normal person but had to laugh in his face.  
And Derek had fucking cried in front of him. He was such a fucking drama queen because even now, he was finding it difficult to stop. He scrubbed at his cheeks, finding them hot with shame and wetter than he expected.

Derek got into his car, folded his arms over the steering wheel, buried his head inside them and tried to breathe and stop fucking crying  
His panic (and tears) abated after a few minutes but when he lifted his head...  
He saw Stiles Stilinski making his way out of the school, heavy backpack on his small shoulders as he moved towards where Derek sat in his car.  
"Fuck this," Derek thought as he turned on the ignition and high tailed out of the parking lot as fast as he fucking could.

\---

Derek shows up at Stiles' house two hours before prom's supposed to start. He doesn't really expect Stiles' dad to let him in but somehow he must not know. They have that in common, Derek and Stiles. Absent parents. It's part of the reason why they've been able to squeeze so much sex into the last seven months.  
"You look very dapper, Derek," he says, taking in Derek's fitted black suit and tie he's wearing with a white shirt. It's a boring combination but Derek hardly cares.

"Stiles didn't tell me you were going to prom together," he says.  
That's because they weren't-- but Derek doesn't say that.  
He just asks, "Can I go upstairs?" and he nods and says he can.

\---

It was pretty easy to avoid Stiles after the whole botched attempt at asking out/laughing/crying thing-- Stiles didn't really go out of his way to try and talk to him, it was just sometimes - when Derek came upon him in hallways and Stiles would square his shoulders like he was preparing for something - Derek would just turn on his heels and walk (sometimes run) in the other direction.  
There wasn't any group work in chem, much to Derek's fucking relief. Because they didn't really talk during experiments-- Derek would just dreamily stare at Stiles' profile without the younger boy noticing but obviously he couldn't do that now.

Another relief came from the fact that no one at school said anything to him about how he'd humiliated himself in front of Hester Hill's resident nerd. No one knew, which meant that Stiles didn't tell anyone. Probably not even Erica who Derek knows, is the biggest gossip in the sophomore class.  
After about a week, Derek figured, maybe it was alright. Yeah, heartbreak was fucking awful and he hardly ate or slept but he'd be okay in the end, right?  
So maybe he was kinda in love with Stiles but the Stiles he thought he knew wouldn't have laughed at him like that-- even if he didn't like Derek back, he wouldn't have done something like that. So maybe that Stiles didn't really exist and Derek wasn't really missing out on anything. Maybe - Derek told himself - he should be relieved he isn't dating that asshole - knowing full well that he was completely full of shit.  
And then Stiles showed up at his house.

"Derek, there's someone at the door for you," his dad called up the stairs.  
Which surprised Derek since he didn't really hang out with the guys much outside of school. Yeah, there was getting post game pizza with the team and the parties and hangouts at houses left void of parental authority but as far as coming over to his house? Yeah, that didn't really happen.  
"I have a meeting," his dad told Derek when he reached the bottom of the stairs. "See you later, kiddo."  
"Bye," Derek told his dad, his eyes following him as he moved to the front door and past...Stiles Stilinski.  
The sound of the door shutting behind his dad was deafening.  
"Hey," Stiles said. He looked ridiculous standing there (in Derek's house!) in his corduroy pants and wrinkled button up. Stiles adjusted his glasses on his nose, waiting for...what? Derek had no idea. Maybe for him to return Stiles' greeting?  
"What are you doing here, Stilinski?"

Inside his head, Derek was rolling his eyes at himself for slipping into his jock persona, trying to make his voice sharp and threatening. It was no use-- this kid had his number. Trying to save face was a futile effort at this point.  
Stiles looked like he agreed with that sentiment.  
"I wanted to say I'm sorry for what happened on Friday. That was..." Stiles' brows contorted in confusion. "I don't even know what that was, dude."  
"You being an asshole?" Derek volunteered. "I mean, I know you think you're better than everyone else..."  
"Me?" Stiles exclaimed. "You think I think-- "  
"You do," Derek told him. "You act like you're so above it all-- high school and the people inside it. All of us commoners that you roll your eyes at."  
"You're gonna talk to me about commoners, Mr Popular? You're the fucking prom king!"  
So not the point.

"Look, is this what you came here to do? Yelling back and forth because-- "  
"No," Stiles said, sounding annoyed. "Like I said, I came to say I'm sorry. And to explain."  
Derek raised an eyebrow. "Explain?"  
"The reason I laughed-- "  
"Like I give a shit."  
"-- the reason I laughed is cause I found the idea that you liked me completely ridiculous!"  
"Obviously," Derek said.  
"No, not like-- I mean you..." Stiles gestured in Derek's direction. "...being interested in..." The hand waved at himself, "...me."  
"Why wouldn't I be interested in you?"  
"You need me to spell it out for you?"  
No, actually. Derek had a pretty good idea where Stiles was coming from.  
But still.  
"That's complete bullshit, I thought-- I thought you saw past that high school classification shit."  
"So did I," Stiles said and he sounded kinda...ashamed of himself.  
"Look, Derek..."  
He took a step forward, towards Derek.  
"I don't really know you, man. I thought I did but obviously I'm missing some stuff so...I don't know. If you still wanted to hang or whatever, maybe we could do that. Get to know each other, I mean. And maybe you can find out that I'm not a complete jerk."

"I never said you were a jerk," Derek said, voice soft because holy hell he didn't know what to do with the sudden hope that was building in the pit of his stomach.  
"Asshole," Stiles corrected with a small smile. "I don't want you to think I'm an asshole."  
Derek took his own step forward, "You care what I think?"  
"Apparently," Stiles said, like it's as much of a surprise to him as it is to Derek. And to say that Derek was surprised, well... fucking understatement, man  
"You're paying," Derek said. "For the movie."  
"Sounds about right," Stiles replied, his hazel eyes smiling back at Derek.  
Derek absolutely did not swoon.

The next Monday Derek cought up to his friends in the parking lot after practice.  
"So you fuckers really need to completely lay off Stiles Stilinski from now on."  
"Kinda been doing that since last year, dude." Isaac said, hefting his bag higher onto his shoulder.  
Micheal and Boyd both nodded their heads agreement.  
"Really?" Derek asked.  
"Yeah," Isaac said. "Since like March...when you almost broke Craig's arm for throwing Stilinski's backpack into the garbage bin outside?"  
"Oh," Derek said.  
Now that they mentioned it...  
"Well, keep doing that then."  
"Sure thing man," Boyd said. "But uh...why exactly?"  
Fuck it, Derek thought.

"We're dating."  
The guys gaped at Derek...and then at each other.  
Then Boyd laughed and said, "Pay up, you sons of bitches."  
"What the fuck?"  
"You were supposed to get your shit together a month ago," Isaac said, rolling his eyes. "Then I would have been a hundred bucks richer."  
"I was in for at least two months from now," Micheal said, slapping Derek on the shoulder. "But congrats man."  
"You had a bet going?"  
"Yep," Isaac said. "Ever since Micheal saw Stiles hanging out with that Māhealani guy. Figured since he's gay-- you were in with a shot. Didn't know when exactly you would make it happen but we all knew you would."  
Derek was feeling a slightly light headed.

"You knew? That I liked him?"  
"Derek," Isaac said, slow like he thought Derek was an idiot. Maybe he was. "You broke a dude's arm over him."  
"Almost broke it," Micheal pointed out.  
"Almost," Isaac conceded.  
"I did, didn't I?"  
"Yeah man," Boyd said. And then, "Who wants pizza? I'm buying...well technically Mikey and Isaac are buying."  
"Fuck you, Boyd," Micheal said.  
And then they went to get pizza.  
What the fuck?

\---

Derek did ceramics when he was stressed.  
He'd picked it up from his mom who was way too busy at work these days to ever go into the little room where all sorts of arts and crafts things get buried-- everything from mosiacs Derek did in elementary school to drawings and paintings his mom did when she was going through that phase of her artistic pursuits.  
A few years ago she did ceramics and Derek liked it. Liked how focused he had to be, how much detail he could put into it if he just stayed patient and kept his hand steady. It cleared his mind from everything else and at that moment he needed the distraction from the letter that came a month and a half ago that he hid in the drawer of his desk up in his room.

Which the universe must have known - that Derek needed distraction - because in the next moment Stiles Stilinski barged in through the door like he belonged there. The-- um. Derek's not really sure what it was. Pot, bowl, vase like thing-- fell to the floor and broke into a million tiny pieces. Derek could only watch it fall while he stupidly still held the little paint brush in his hands. Stiles made a small surprised noise in his throat and said, "Oh."  
"Oh? Do you-- have you got any idea how long I've worked on that thing?"  
Belatedly Derek realized he was being an asshole but the letters-- in his desk-- Stiles--  
One of these days he was going to pass out from the stress.  
"Shit, I'm sorry," Stiles said and he did-- he sounded sorry. "Uh...what was it supposed to be anyway?"  
Like Derek had any fucking idea.

He gave a sigh, putting the paint brush into the water jug before grabbing the cloth to wipe his hands. "What are you doing here, Stiles?"  
Stiles had gone into the corner by the window to collect the dust pan and broom, coming over to clean up the mess. Derek took it from his hands with a huff, deciding to do it himself.  
"Oh-kay," Stiles said. "I told you I was coming over didn't I?"  
Yeah, he did. Of course Stiles told him and besides...It wasn't like they didn't see each other after school almost every day.  
For now...

"I'm sorry," Stiles said, his voice going soft and shy. Even after seven months of dating, there were still moments when Stiles seemed less than confident about his place in Derek's life. "I'll go," he said.  
Derek's hand found Stiles', stopping him from leaving.  
"Don't go," he said.  
Stiles smiled at him, almost-perfect white teeth that Derek was still getting used to, on bright display, those eyes that Derek loved bright and warm.  
"Come on," he said dragging Stiles out of the room.  
"Your dad's home," Stiles said, when Derek had closed his bedroom door and backed Stiles up againt it.  
"Don't care," Derek responded before sealing his mouth over Stiles'. "Want you," he added.

Stiles let out a quiet moan into his mouth and Derek knew Stiles wouldn't fight him on this... not now.  
He deepened the kiss, turning it from the soft, wonderful thing that was their default, to something filthier with more intent. He wrapped his tongue around Stiles', savoring the taste of his mouth and the little whimpers he made into Derek's before moving his lips to Stiles' neck, the expanse of exposed skin there, pressing his hips against Stiles' so he could feel how hard Derek was.

"Okay," Stiles said, and meeped, like he was trying to come to grips with what was happening. He almost always sounded like that-- surprised by how much Derek wanted him. Had wanted him for a long time.  
Derek brought their mouths together again, licking into Stiles', moving his hands from their grip on Stiles' t-shirt, folding on behind Stiles' neck, cupping it gently and the other dragging roughly through his hair.  
Stiles' hands found Derek's shirt, lifting and panting, "Off...off," againt Derek's lips, not one to waste time when he decided he was on board with whatever's going on.

"God," Stiles sighed, his fingers running over Derek's chest, down his sides and over his stomach. "You are so hot."  
Derek couldn't help but let out a small laugh at Stiles' praise. The boy had a serious muscle kink and he wasn't at all ashamed of it.  
"I bet you could like-- " Stiles' words cut off on a moan when Derek's hand slipped into his loose jeans and wrapped around his dick.  
"You bet what?" Derek whispered in his ear and Stiles moaned, a shiver going through his body.  
"I bet you could hold me up and fuck me againt this door."  
"Holy fuck."

If the kids at school even knew... but no. They had no idea. No one did, except for Derek. Which is exactly how he wanted it.  
He kissed Stiles again, long and deep, his hand jerking Stiles' cock.  
"Is that what you want?" He asked because he wasn't as sure if he could do it but fuck he'd try. For Stiles-- he'd do anything.  
"No, no..." Stiles said and then, "I want your mouth."  
Derek lifted Stiles' t-shirt, up and over his head, his mouth latching onto Stiles' nipple, making him cry out.  
"Here?" He asked, mouth moving to lick at the other one. Stiles threw his head back against the door (there's no way Derek's dad didn't hear that) before Derek trailed his tongue lower, down Stiles' stomach, dropping down to his knees as he dipped into Stiles' belly button. "Here?" He questioned again.  
"Yeah," Stiles said. "Everywhere. Jesus."  
"You sure?" Derek quipped. "You don't have anywhere specific in mind?" He sucked a particularly hard bruise onto Stiles' hip.  
"I hate you," Stiles said, his hands falling into Derek's hair, gripping hard and Derek fought back a moan. When he looked up Stiles was smirking down at him, the little shit.  
As if in retaliation, Derek went to work on the button of Stiles' jeans, working the zip before pulling it down, Stiles' briefs all that stood between Derek and his dick. A nice, wet spot had formed on the fabric and Derek mouthed at it.

"Jee-sus," Stiles hissed and it was Derek's time to smirk.  
"Say it," he demanded. "I won't do it unless you say it."  
Stiles raised an eyebrow. "Say what? Oh, please, Derek. Baby, please, suck me off"  
"Well you can maybe phrase it as a question."  
Derek gave Stiles' briefs a hard jank down anyway, biting his lip at the way it slapped hard and wet against his boyfriend's stomach.  
If the guys in the locker room knew about this  
Stiles was big and not just...not like Derek. Not like; nothing to complain about, moderately above average big.  
He was huge.  
It took months of hard work before they decided Derek was ready to take that dick in his ass. And even then it was...god it was good Derek was a trooper and Stiles' dick was a gift--  
Derek would have happily sucked it for him even if Stiles didn't ask very nicely.  
But he did.  
"Please, Derek. Suck my cock for me, please..." He even batted his eyelashes for effect. Derek was so gone.  
As if he wasn't already.

Derek set to task, moaning around the stretch, the eventual ache in his jaw as Stiles' lenght pushed past his gag reflex, making Derek's eyes roll to the back of his.  
He really believed he enjoyed this more than Stiles did. That he got more out of sucking Stiles' cock-- he definitely loved it more than when Stiles went down on him. Not that Stiles wasn't skilled or some shit. They'd both been equally inexperienced when they started (turns out Māhealani didn't get more than a few make out sessions and some heavy petting) but now they were alright for a couple of high schoolers who've had a few months of sexual exploration. For example, Stiles is to rimming Derek, what Derek is to giving Stiles head-- they undoubtedly complete each other in magnificent ways.

Stiles came, biting his lip, fisting his hand in Derek's hair, essentially choking Derek with his dick and Derek didn't even taste any of his come, it shot straight down his throat. He might have pouted about that a little. Stiles might have noticed. Derek stood up on unsteady feet and Stiles dragged him to the foot of his bed where he watched as Stiles crawled on top of it and got down on all fours. He gave Derek a look over his shoulder, his cheeks flushed, eyes blown wide and lips swollen and demanded that Derek fuck him.  
Derek happily obliged.

It was only as they were lying in Derek's bed together - Stiles napping contently, softly breathing air againt Derek's chest - that it all came rushing back. He looked at his desk, the drawer and realized he'd done it again. Somehow he'd forgotten and he'd...fuck. He'd fucked up. He wasn't supposed to do this. Not since the letter came and he knew this had to stop.  
He had to tell Stiles and when he did-- Stiles would hate him because Derek didn't tell him, couldn't tell him, couldn't bring himself to deal with the consequences of telling him. Losing this-- having to overcome this addiction he had for the boy sleeping curled up against him.  
His first crush...since fucking middle school, his first...  
Fuck.  
His first everything.

He didn't know how he could possibly do it-- end what they had between them.  
But he knew that he had to.

\---

Derek knocks on Stiles' bedroom door knowing-- if the boy knew who was waiting on the other side, it probably wouldn't be opened for him.

\---

Derek broke up with Stiles on a Saturday afternoon-- a week before prom and a month before offical graduation.  
They were Stiles' house and his dad wasn't home. Usually they'd have been in Stiles' room by now, on his bed, rolling around on sheets that smelled so much like him but instead...  
Derek lead them to the kitchen.

They were sitting at the table, cans of soda in front of them and Derek couldn't bring himself to look at Stiles when he said, "I think we should...not date each other anymore."  
Stiles took his hand back from where his fingers had been intertwined with Derek's mere seconds ago. Derek hadn't even noticed it, that they were holding hands. Maybe if he had he would have taken his away before blurting it out like that, surprising Stiles enough with his words that the boy nearly choked on his soda, "What the fuck, dude?"

Derek kept his eyes on the kitchen table, feeling shame like he'd never felt it before. He had his reasons, of course. For once he was prepared around Stiles, knew exactly what to say, how to explain to him that...  
Stiles is young. He's two years younger than Derek and he's like...focused on getting his driver's license and whether or not he was going to get a job over summer.  
And Derek is eighteen. He's leaving, graduating and going off to Berkeley, a long ass drive away even if Stiles gets his license.

And Stiles knows that-- he's always known that Derek was applying there, that Derek was going to a school so far away. Stiles should have been expecting this...he should have been prepared. He shouldn't--  
Stiles look completely blindsided by this.  
Derek told him all of this, explained about the distance and the fact that Stiles still had two years of high school left-- to which Stiles' responded, "Everything was...we were fine. Just yesterday, we were doing it in your bedroom with your dad down the hallway in his study and now you're-- You're fucking breaking up with me? Derek, seriously?"  
"Yeah, I just... I think it would be best. We haven't been together that long, Stiles and long distance, it's really difficult and..."  
"You couldn't have brought this up sooner, you know, before you made me..." Stiles' voice dropped to almost a whisper, "...before you made me love you?"

And Derek's heart broke-- because Stiles had never told him that before.  
Derek knew but...he'd never said it and Derek hasn't either.  
He hasn't had to, it's been fucking obvious.  
"Stiles..."  
"You couldn't have waited, Derek. We still-- there's a month of school left and three months of summer before-- "  
"I'm enrolling early," Derek told him.  
So that it's finally out in the open after all these weeks.  
"At Berkeley-- I'm leaving in a week."  
He watched as Stiles processed his words, swallowing thickly before he shut down in front of Derek, eyes going blank and even though Derek hates it, as much as he hates it, he couldn't do anything about it. Derek did what he did-- kept it from Stiles because he was scared and Stiles wasn't going to forgive that.  
It was too late.

So when Stiles said, "I want you to get out," Derek got up from his chair to do exactly that.  
His hands felt clammy - as he made his way through the kitchen and into the livingroom, headed for the door - so he rubbed them on his jeans, only after the fact, remembering Stiles' hand in his and feeling like he was removing Stiles' touch.  
He tried to meet Stiles' eyes but the boy didn't look at him-- just shut the door with a hard slam.

\---

Stiles opens the door, his eyebrows raising and his lips parting slightly, eyes widening in surprise. And for a moment that's all there is on his face, just surprise. In the next his expression closes off in that way that Derek hates because that's how Stiles is with other people. Derek's supposed to be different.  
Fuck.  
Stiles looks like he's a second away from closing the door.

Derek's stronger than him so it's easy, pushing the door open all the way and stepping inside, maneuvering Stiles out of the way so he can close the door behind them.  
For a second he's struck by the familiarity of Stiles' bedroom, spending so much time in here during the last seven months, listening to music, doing homework, watching movies, having sex. He lets it wash over him-- what it meant to have that with Stiles. What he'd thought he could give up.  
It's not just the bedroom obviously-- they've hung out in Derek's room, they went on all those dates the first two months but their first kiss was in here, and the first time they took of their shirts and rubbed off against each other was on Stiles' bed.

Stiles asks, "What are you doing here, Derek?" And Derek comes out of his reverie, looks at him. Stiles' wearing pajamas, the pants loose and too long and...one of Derek's football jerseys.  
Stiles' eyes follow where Derek's looking and he flushes bright red, crossing his arms over his chest.  
"Are you just here to mock me or something?"  
"No," Derek says. "I wouldn't...you know I wouldn't do that."  
Stiles nods his head because yes...he knows that.  
"So did you come to say goodbye? Isaac said you're leaving on Sunday..."  
Derek swallows thickly, "I am but-- I came here to ask you...to go to prom with me."  
Stiles' mouth curls up a little on the one side, a sad almost smile. "You know, I was wondering why you didn't ask me...before. I guess I know now."  
"I should have," Derek tells him. "I'm sorry."  
"Yeah, you should have," Stiles agrees.  
He nods his head, "Go wait downstairs, let me shower and stuff."  
Derek takes a step back I'm surprise, "You're saying yes?"  
"Did you not want me to?"  
"No...I-- I mean of course I want you to. I asked, didn't I?"  
"Eventually," Stiles says.  
"I'm just...I thought you'd still be pissed-- "  
"Oh, I am," Stiles says. "You kept the early enrollment from me and you're an ass for sure."  
Derek agrees with that.  
He thought getting Stiles to go with him would be a long shot. He was willing to get down on his knees and beg for fuck's sake. And now Stiles' just saying yes?  
"So then why..."  
Stiles frowns at him. "I just...what I said about waiting till summer was over to end things. What I meant was-- I'd take whatever time I have left with you before you, you know...forget about me and stuff."  
"I couldn't ever forget you."  
Stiles gives another sad smile. "Sure," he says. "I thought we-- I had four more months but it turns out I don't. And before you showed up here looking like something out of my wettest dream, I thought I'd have nothing else so-- if you're offering...tonight then. My answer is yes. However pathetic that makes me seem to you."

Derek doesn't think it's pathetic.  
Already he hates himself over the fact that a week went by that he didn't spend with Stiles. He gets what Stiles' saying, it's the reason why he was so afraid of telling Stiles he was leaving early. He thought Stiles would get mad and end things...too soon.  
Everything is happening too soon and Derek knows his reasons for wanting to go. He has to go but... they should have talked about this. He should have talked to Stiles but...  
He was just so fucking scared.

"Go wait downstairs," Stiles says. "I'll just be a few minutes."  
Derek nods and leaves the room. When he gets downstairs, there's no one else around. Stiles' dad must have left.  
It takes fifteen minutes for Stiles to come down the stairs dressed in-- maroon slacks, a dark blue button down and a grey vest. He's wearing a green bowtie and brown suspenders and his thick rimmed glasses and he looks so completely Stiles that he's literally taken Derek's breath away.  
"Wow," Derek says. "You look..."  
Stiles blushes and smiles and tells Derek, "You're so weird."  
"I am not," Derek argues. "You're beautiful. You're the sexiest nerd I've ever seen in my life." He corrects himself, "The sexiest person...in general."  
"Okay, Casanova," Stiles smiles at him. "Enough with the flattery, I'm pretty sure I'm a sure thing on prom night."  
Derek smirks, "Oh yeah?"  
Stiles smiles wider and shakes his head like he's just about had it with Derek.  
He grabs Derek by the arm and says, "Come on, were going to be late."

The thirty minute drive to the prom venue is spent with Stiles asking question after question about the summer programme Derek's enrolling into at Berkeley.  
It shouldn't surprise Derek-- Stiles lives for this shit, science and mathematics and learning but it does.  
Stiles sounds excited for him, like he agrees with Derek that being accepted is amazing and one of the coolest things to ever happen to him.  
There's no bitterness there, when Stiles punches him on the arm and says, "And people say I'm a nerd..."  
Derek should have known-- because he knows what kind of person Stiles is...  
Obviously he was being a fucking idiot.

Derek wins prom king again (for some reason) and Stiles mocks him endlessly for the plastic crown he wears for five minutes and then discards with suit jacket.  
They dance to upbeat top 40's and slow dance to REO Speedwagon and then they get into Derek's car and drive to beach.  
They're sitting on the hood of the Toyota, their hands clasped between them when Derek says, "I'm going to miss you," and Stiles says, "Yeah...I know."

\---

When Stiles' acceptance letter comes from Stanford, Derek's the first person he calls.  
"Congratulations," Derek says, and he means it. Mostly means it.  
"Thanks," Stiles says, a sarcastic edge to his voice.  
"I mean," Derek clears his throat. "You're still waiting on Brown and-- "  
"Yes, well," Stiles says. "This is my first choice."  
"Because of me."  
"Derek, come on," And Stiles sounds annoyed and defensive. "You know me better than-- to think I'd base my biggest life decisions on where my boyfriend's going to school. We've talked about this. So fucking much."  
And they have but, "I just don't want you to feel pressured..."  
"Since when have you ever pressured me into anything? I want to go to Stanford. I'm going to Stanford. The fact that it's close to your school is just a bonus."  
A bonus...right.

"We can do long distance, Stiles. We've done it for two years..."  
"And we don't have to do it anymore! Don't you get it? I know we've got this. I know we're for always. I know no matter what, you're gonna put a ring on it someday but I want this. I want to go to my dream school and I want to be close to you. Is that such a bad thing?"  
"No," Derek says, almost laughing at Stiles' little speech.

He knows Stiles can hear the smile in his voice when he says, "It's a really really good thing."


End file.
